Orsa Minore
by Capella A. Morningside
Summary: PreWindwaker. A noblewoman in the King's court believes she has heard the calling of the Gods to save Hyrule from the dark fate soon to befall it. Is she what she seems? [Chapter III Uploaded.]
1. Prologue: Ritual

Orsa Minore

by Capella A. Morningside

Summary: Pre-Windwaker. A noblewoman in the King's court believes she has heard the calling of the Gods to save Hyrule from the dark fate soon to befall it. Is she what she seems?

Author's Note: Not to worry. This is **not** a Mary-Sue. I don't do those. It's just my take on something that might have taken place just before the Great Sea was born. I don't want to spoil the real intent I have in store for this story, so just read...

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-Prologue- 

_Power that gave the world form..._

_Wisdom that gave the world law..._

_Courage that gave the world life..._

Slender, aged hands rose into the air, and the golden triangles above the sealed Door of Time immediately illuminated, filling the pitch-dark Temple with holy light.

_To thee I do raise my prayers._

So many decades of practice and refinement went into the movements of her hands, so much skill in the focus of her prayer that she no longer had to utter the words aloud. Concentrating her thoughts alone would open the celestial channels, her mind becoming one with the collective minds of the goddesses themselves.

Santhegia, the Priestess of the Seal as she was called, had lived in the Temple of Time since she was a mere four years old. She was chosen because she had been born on the same day the old priest before her gave his final breath, down to merely hours between the events. One could not call it anything but destiny.

Clasping her hands together, the Priestess began to utter a chant in a strange but delicate tongue that none in Hyrule but she and the ancient Sages could speak. It was the language of the Sacred Realm, the language of all beings that dwelt in that divine land. Yet in the midst of her prayer, Santhegia felt her line of communication with the goddesses suddenly break, and the topmost glowing triangle over the Door of Time dimmed into nothingness.

She let her old eyes, almost clouded with blindness open, just as she felt the ground jolt beneath her feet. Coming out of her trance completely, the old woman lost her balance, her delicate form falling forward on the stone floor harshly. Santhegia's forehead began to burn, she winced as a golden symbol flared to life upon it for a fleeting second, covering it with her fingers instinctively until it faded once more.

"This cannot be."


	2. Chapter I: Negligible Impropriety

Orsa Minore

by Capella A. Morningside

Author's Note: Read and review please. Reviews are what I thrive on, and they are very encouraging. Thank you to Princess of Destiny for being my sole reviewer for the Prologue!

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- Chapter I – Negligible Impropriety

Sangethia had sent her herald ahead of her to the castle to awaken the Royal Family and their court. Rousing the aristocrats from their slumber was always a harsh business even for someone as esteemed and respected as the Priestess of the Seal; she'd only done it once before and hoped to the Goddesses she never had to do it again. When she had arrived at the castle that time to discuss the matter at hand, they, clad in their royal robes but nonetheless looking severely disheveled, displaced and annoyed, had regarded her with the attitude of 'this had better be worth it'.

The old priestess couldn't help but think the Royal Family had grown more and more luxury-loving and careless in the with each generation. Centuries ago, royalty and the nobility were far more on their toes, as was the entire country during the Imprisoning War, but now they were indulgent, in love with pleasure and no expense was spared to make them comfortable. On the other hand, they had not become gluttonous and filled with greed, much to the relief of many, they were still generous, kind, and fair to their people.

As was custom, the High Priestess could not be seen by the commoners outside of the Temple of Time. So she lay in a rather claustrophobic litter, carried on the backs of her servants, the inside of it strewn with silken pillows that made it seem all the more suffocating to Sangethia. The golden-colored curtains were drawn, a similar-colored fan in her hand, at the ready, to hide her face should wind betray the Hylian traditions. Few townspeople were about in the town at such an hour anyway, but the old woman knew it would soon change when someone noticed she was on her way to the castle. It was strange, and almost foreboding for the Priestess to be seen leaving the temple, to make matters worse it was at the darkest hour of night, and she was heading to Hyrule Castle of all places.

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_Swirling waters around her feet threatened to grow and sweep her away, the cold moisture seeping into the fabric of her dress and spreading upward, chilling her to the bone. Harsh, neutral in temperature winds blew against her stiffly, never once subsiding to give her a moment to regain her balance. The blonde woman clutched at the sleeves of her clothing, shivering, unable to move in front of the large, foreboding figure towering over her._

_It was like being faced with the monsters she heard about in the stories she was told as child, and what did that make her? The damsel in distress? Taking a step back, this made difficult by the weight of her soaked dress, her tense body caused another reflexive clenching of her fists. Something cold and hard pressed against her left palm, and her blue eyes diverted to it. A sword?_

_I'm not the damsel in distress, she thought, I'm the hero!_

_Moving the heavy metal object in front of her, the blonde clutched at it with both hands, lifting it into the air above her head and preparing to strike the Shadow._

_Sapphire eyes widened as a wall of water came toward them both, sweeping both Shadow and woman from the ground and carrying them with its will..._

Ceridwyn's muscles tensed instinctively as she was pushed abruptly out of her nightmare, fists clutching at her heart as it skipped a beat. Panting, the young woman began to regain her stamina, sitting up in her silken bed and clutching the rust-colored sheets to her breast. _Not again._

Her wide eyes gave a quick inspection of her surroundings, making sure she was, indeed, still in the castle, all of her belongings were there and no intruders had entered. It was again the same dream that had been recurring to her, night after night, for a fortnight. The fire in the fireplace had long since gone out, the cinders no longer even smoking and by the angle the moonlight pierced through the rectangular window, casting its rays on her stone floor, she guessed it was still several hours until dawn.

_Might as well take a walk. Can't get back to sleep now._

Dragging her fingers through her long, tangled golden hair, Ceridwyn shifted her position to let her feet hang off the edge of her bed. Bare feet touched the cold stone floor, recoiling for a split second before willpower took over and she forced herself to stand. A silk, solid emerald-colored gown cascaded to the floor as the young woman crossed the room.

Ceridwyn herself was not royalty, but she was close enough that her bloodline alone allowed her to be a highly respected noblewoman. Her lineage was traced back several generations to the younger sister of a past king, and over time, Ceridwyn's ties to the Royal Family were growing thinner, but it lost her no status. Her father and mother were taken by an illness during their daughter's youth, and it was up to her alone to carry on their lineage.

She pushed her feet into a pair of jeweled golden slippers and threw a white linen robe, hemmed with some yellow trim, over her shoulders. This was her usual routine after the recurring dream; a walk around the castle corridors and courtyards usually did her some calming good. Pulling open a drawer on her bedside, Ceridwyn removed a rather large stump of candle, lighting it with a nearby tinder-box and shoving the waxy mass onto a brass carrier. A white silk fan, adorned with brownish down feathers on the top, occupied her other hand; it was Hylian custom that if an unmarried noblewoman was not wearing her circlet, she was forbidden to let a man see her face. Ceridwyn didn't expect she'd see much of anybody around the castle, but it was just in case.

The young woman pulled the door of her room shut behind her, scanning the corridor for anyone unwelcome before going on.

It would be unfair for Ceridwyn to say she wasn't treated well in the castle. She, like all the other noblewomen, received every luxury that rupees could afford. Fine clothes, servants that attended her needs, expensive cuisine. It was the very people she had to interact with that she wasn't so sure about. She spent lot of time with the Sheikah Melek, the brother of Princess Sive's attendant, Ziphorah. In secret, Melek would teach her the sorts of things it was considered improper for a lady to know; how to read the stars, how to go anywhere you liked without being seen at all, how to fire a bow, defend yourself with a sword and ride a horse like a fighter, rather than side-saddle like a woman should.

Melek could be considered Ceridwyn's only friend, and though no one else was openly rude or mean to her, they did act as if she were diseased. They never got too close, made a point of it not to talk to her for long, and every time she turned around she could hear their whispers behind her back.

_"She's so strange."_

_"Ceridwyn's just not... like the rest of us."_

It no longer bothered her, or so she would have liked to think.

"Are you positive, Sangethia, that this is what is going on?"

Voices, from the courtyard ahead. Ceridwyn's pointed ears perked up and she approached the wall, sliding along against it until she was just at the courtyard entrance. And of course, there were the 'alert' guards, pacing along the hedge maze and chatting amongst themselves.

"You have been having dreams, have you not, your Highnesses? Do you doubt my word?"

It was the Priestess of the Seal, Sangethia, that had spoken this time, though before, Ceridwyn had heard the deep, rich voice of King Daphnes. _So I am not alone, _the noblewoman thought, falling to her knees and blowing out her candle. Staying low, the blonde worked up the courage to peek around the stone corner.

It was an assembly, of sorts. King Daphnes and his wife Catriona were there, as well as their child Princess Sive. Ziphorah and Melek were at their side, and Sangethia stood before them, her posture solemn and her hand gripping on her walking-stick a little tighter than usual.

"It is not that we do not believe you, Priestess," Queen Catriona was saying, "It is that we are not willing to so quickly jump to such a dark conclusion. Is the Realm not constantly putting off disturbances, simply because of the one who dwells there?"

"Yes, well," Sangethia lowered her head. "This was not an ordinary disturbance. He has found the strength to speak."

"Speak?" questioned the Queen. "Whatever do you mean?"

"He is speaking to someone of this world." The Priestess looked to the two Sheikah. "Ziphorah, Melek, I cannot believe you two. Your kind must be losing their touch. I thought you would have known by now, surely, but would one of you please retrieve our eavesdropper?" The old woman's hand signaled behind her.

Ceridwyn's heart nearly froze in her chest, and she attempted to scramble to her feet as the two Sheikah siblings rapidly approached, but only managing to slip on the smooth grass and the silk of her own sleeping-gown and fall. Once she had gotten to a stand at last, she unfolded her fan, concealing the lower half of her face, dropped her unlit candle and made a run for it.

Strong arms were around her waist in no time, and her feet left the ground. Ceridwyn's entire world flipped over and she hit the ground on her back. Blindly, she kicked at the air, and judging by the feel of her strike and the sound that followed, she guessed she had managed to hit one of them in the stomach. Rolling over, her hands propping her up against the stone, the young woman started to stand again, only to feel her arms secured behind her back, punished with a cruel twist when she tried to struggle.

Only once she was subdued did the Sheikah restraining her recognize her. Melek had come around the front to confront the supposed eavesdropper and had stared at her a good minute before inquiring, "Lady Ceridwyn?"

"Lady Ceridwyn," Ziphorah echoed, her tone flat. "We should have known, Melek."

"I didn't mean any harm," Ceridwyn whined as the elder Sheikah let her arms go.

"As little harm as you may have meant, Lady, you were still behaving in a highly inappropriate manner," Ziphorah chastised. "Let's take her to the King," she went on, obviously toward her brother, as she took one of the girl's arms roughly and led her back toward the courtyard.


	3. Chapter II: Silenced

Orsa Minore

by Capella A. Morningside

Author's Note: Read and review please! Thank you to Princess of Destiny (again!), WDR, and Avalon Estel for your kind reviews. (Princess of Destiny, I know about that little decree and my plan does work around it.)

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Chapter II - Silenced

"Incredible misconduct. Outright rudeness, Lady Ceridwyn!"

"Yes, your Majesty." The blonde fought tears, hiding almost her entire face behind her fan as King Daphnes chastised her.

"In less civilized circles you would have been locked away; no, executed for such a crime!"

The Queen reached out, touching her husband's arm in a gentle manner. "I believe she has heard enough, my Lord. It really did no harm for her to hear this, even though it was very bad manners."

"But in the future," Sangethia deadpanned, "she should avoid hearing what is not meant for her ears."

Ceridwyn started a plea. "Priestess..."

"I do not care to hear what you have to say, Lady Ceridwyn," the old woman interrupted.

"Your Holiness, you don't understand, I..."

Sangethia's voice suddenly reached a volume no one had quite expected, causing everyone but the two Sheikah to hold their breath. "I understand far better than you think I do. I will talk to you later, but for now I advise you strongly to hold your tongue!"

The Priestess' last word echoed on the stone walls of the courtyard like the roar of some wild animal, and it took several moments for the atmosphere to calm and Sangethia's muscles to relax. The noblewoman's head hung low, steadily falling tears concealed by her fan.

"Your Highnesses," the elderly Priestess went on, "The Lady Ceridwyn must not remain here for the rest of our meet. It does not concern her, and I have matters to discuss with her once you have dismissed me."

King Daphnes, eyes closed and massaging his temples with his fingers, only gave her a nod and a gesture of approval.

Melek stepped forward. "I will escort the Lady back to her chambers, if that is what you wish, your Holiness."

"Yes, Melek. That would be fine." Sangethia paused, then added, "Take no detours."

The Sheikah took a quiet, upset Ceridwyn by the arm and led her out of the courtyard under his sister's wary and suspicious gaze. They went on for several minutes, neither of them uttering a word, through the gardens and up a rather dark stone staircase toward the particular tower she lived in. Ceridwyn's sapphire eyes watched the ground, not once attempting to even look at her friend, and she still hid behind the white, feathered fan.

"You know," Melek said after some time. "No one else is around, you don't have to use that anymore."

"But that would be inappropriate." His friend's voice was low, almost a whisper.

"You've never used the fan with me before."

Ceridwyn didn't answer save a sigh, folding her fan and letting her arm rest at her side. More time passed, and before they knew it they were in her hall, and almost at her chamber door.

"Before I go," the Sheikah said, running a hand through his violet hair, "may I ask you something?"

"Yes, Melek?"

Melek opened the door to the girl's chambers, exercising his own sense of chivalry. "What were you trying to tell Sangethia?"

Silence from her again, but for the first time that night, Ceridwyn's eyes met the Sheikah's own, a startled, almost disturbed look to them.

"You don't have to tell me if that is not your wish," he fought the tendency to come across as awkward, nearly afraid he had offended his companion.

Fumbling with her fan, the Hylian spoke. "I heard Sangethia mention prophetic dreams..."

* * *

Ceridwyn now wished, sincerely, that she could get some sleep.

Waiting for Sangethia was torture, especially when she knew she was in for a good scolding. Her knowledge of the Priestess' incredible intuition told her that the old woman knew something about her dreams. _I just know these visions mean something. The goddesses are trying to tell me something, of great importance, I have no doubt. _

Ceridwyn had wanted nothing more than to be allowed to speak during that meeting. There was nothing more frustrating, to her at least, than to be silenced.

But this was common. More than often she would have something to say, but everyone simply turned their backs and closed their ears to her, whispering to each other (the ladies often mistaken that the fan masks one's voice) not to listen, that 'Ceridwyn was just babbling on again'.

It made her think of the old Hylian legend of the weaver, who was so rebellious that her husband, a great nobleman, locked her in a tower. He sent for a magician to cast a muting spell upon his wife, for her screams and angry words were so loud he could hear her throughout his palace. And how did it all end? One day, as the woman was weaving, she looked out her only window to the horizon and saw a great dark mass: the army of her husband's rival. As his rival's army surprised them all in the night, slaughtering many, she sat in her tower, silently weaving, and when some soldiers finally reached her chamber they found her finishing a great tapestry depicting her warning... completed hours too late.

The noblewoman didn't even jump as the heavy sound of gold against her wooden door rang out, sudden.

"Lady Ceridwyn," came Sangethia's grave tone. "You are presentable?"

"I am, your Holiness," Ceridwyn replied.

When Sangethia entered the room, she was not at all surprised to see the blonde woman curled up in a sitting position, knees drawn up tightly against her chest, on her bed. The golden slippers were on the floor, but the young woman still wore her robe, her blue eyes not even raising to regard the Priestess.

The elder of the two pushed the thick wooden door shut, shaking her head. "Forgetting your manners again, are you?"

Pinching her forefinger and thumb together, Ceridwyn touched her fingertips to the crown of her forehead, then just above her left brow, then the right. This action symbolized the three goddesses and the triforce, and was used as a general blessing as well as a greeting for all holy persons. Sangethia returned the greeting, albeit coldly, before approaching to stand at the other woman's bedside.

"Why..." the blonde began, but she was interrupted.

"Did I silence you at the meeting?" Sangethia rested both her hands on her walking-stick, almost leaning, making her seem even more old and faded than usual.

Ceridwyn nodded.

"You have been having dreams, have you not? Dreams you believe to be prophetic?"

"Yes, your Holiness." came the soft answer, the bearer of the voice too afraid of being silenced again to speak further.

Sangethia's golden eyes narrowed. "Tell me what you see."

"Wind, water, and..." Ceridwyn swallowed deeply, closing her eyes. _Ah, there it was. Just focus, and it's right there in front of me again. I can see it, all of it. My sword. The shadow... _"...and a great, towering shadow."

"Tell me, Ceridwyn, where are you, exactly, in this dream?" the Priestess inquired, her speech rushed and a steadily growing uneasy look about her.

"The shadow... it's standing right before me. And in my hand..."

Interruption again. "A sword." Sangethia gave a deep sigh, her age showing in her very gaze.

"Yes, your Holiness."

"Never speak of this again." The old woman turned on her heel, preparing to leave the chambers. It was as if some great cloud had suddenly chosen to linger on her path, her countenance was dark, but nonetheless it seemed, to her, that Ceridwyn was determined to make it worse.

The blonde stood from her bed, barely wincing at the coldness of the stone on her bare skin, and called out, "But Priestess, won't you tell me the meaning of all this?"

"No, Lady, I will not. Now, good night, and may Golden Light go with you..."

It was Sangethia's turn to be interrupted. "But why not?"

"You would never understand it, Ceridwyn!"

"I need to at least try! If the Royal Family is having these dreams too, I do have a part in this! The Goddesses would not send me the prophecy as well without reason."

Fire blazed in the Priestess' eyes as she spun around, pointing her now-glowing golden staff in the noblewoman's direction. "You shall have no part in this!"

Normally, this would have deterred even the King from further inquiry, but Ceridwyn was a debatable subject for either being extremely brave or extremely foolhardy. She stepped forward, almost putting herself against the end of the staff, and continuing to raise her voice called out, "You are not the one to determine that, that is up to the Goddesses, so how do you know?"

Sangethia dealt the young woman a swift jab to the abdomen with her staff, sending Ceridwyn back a few steps, reeling. The Priestess' anger was now so apparent that her eyes began to glow as gold as her walking-stick. "How dare you, Lady, contest what I, High Priestess of the Seal, know of the will of the Goddesses!"

Ceridwyn at last began to feel fear, finding herself still at the aim of the staff as she backed up onto her bed, and finally the stone wall the furniture was against in her attempts to get away.

"You would do to listen well," Sangethia went on, "Firstly, never treat me with such disrespect again. And secondly, you will have no part in this and if you continue to be insolent, I am not afraid to ensure your lack of involvement. You may think that dream meant something, but it did not. Do you understand me?"

So many protests to this filled the blonde's mind, but her throat was so paralyzed she could only give a nod.

Sangethia's staff and eyes faded once more, giving the light they had borrowed back to the bedside lantern, and the staff itself became a walking-stick again as the old woman made her exit.


	4. Chapter III: Rumors

Orsa Minore

by Capella A. Morningside

Author's Note: Sorry about this short chapter. This is all I wanted to accomplish in this chapter, and trying to stick something else in just made it seem awkward. Thanks to all my reviewers and I hope you're enjoying the story.

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Chapter III - Rumors 

Melek's walk back to his chambers was far slower than usual. He was a lost voyager in the sea of his own thoughts, his eyes glued ahead of him to ensure he did not collide with anything or anyone and his mind running back and forth over what Ceridwyn had told him. Stunned would be an understatement for what he felt, confused was not too far off but not too correct either. She couldn't possibly be making it up, where would she have heard the tale of that dream from anyway? They hadn't discussed it in the meeting until after he had returned from taking her back; everyone simply had different angles but the same vision.

And where was he in his version? He had a peasant girl in his arms, running as hard and fast as he could uphill as the strong wind tried to knock him over. Melek wasn't sure exactly what he was doing, but all he knew was the little voice in the back of his head was screaming at him to run quicker, to get up the mountain ahead for all he was worth.

He'd been tempted, while relating his part, to speak on Ceridwyn's behalf, but Sangethia's hawk-like stare had cut off any ideas of that. The old woman's eyes were unusually threatening, but his Sheikah training had taught him to read more into a mere glance than the average person. The Priestess was spooked; and only he and his sister seemed to perceive it. And the way she carried herself when she had left to speak with Ceridwyn was not that of someone going to give a misbehaving teenager a lecture, Sangethia looked more like a seasoned mage marching off to face some enemy; rather than her usual near-unheard grumbling under her breath and using her staff to support her with each step, she carried her head high and her staff touched the ground only sporadically.

It was only natural that he feared for Ceridwyn then, and he fought the impulses to check to see if she was okay. It wasn't a good idea, especially if Sangethia was still talking to her, and though his chances of being seen were slim, a man knocking at a woman's bedchambers in the dead of night didn't exactly look like the most appropriate of visits. The rumors that already flew around the castle about himself and Lady Ceridwyn were annoying enough as they were.

Melek and Ceridwyn were good friends, and had been since they were very small. That was all there was to it, why couldn't people understand that? The hardships in their lives had made them even closer, especially when she lost her parents to the Keese Plague, or when he later contracted it himself and barely survived.

His blonde sister was waiting for him in the hallway to his bedchamber, leaned against the door to deny him entrance. Crimson eyes that were like exact copies of his own raised to greet him when he made his cautious approach, and one look into them told him everything he needed to know... Ziphorah was especially _suspecting _tonight.

"You had quite the look on your face after you escorted Lady Ceridwyn back to her quarters."

Melek didn't reply, he just kept eyeing his door in hopes she would give up and move.

"I would think," Ziphorah went on, "that you were taught better about how to conceal your emotions."

"I'll be sure to haul a few stones tomorrow, if that's what you are hinting at, sister." This, as well as other unnecessary, often injuring physical tasks, were methods of self-punishment for the Sheikah that had wavered from following their strict Codes.

"It is starting to look like the consequences of your actions will cross Sheikah jurisdiction." The older woman cleared her throat, and there it was, that 'I-know-what-you're-up-to' look that Melek tried not to find amusing.

"If you are about to make accusations of me, I'll tell you beforehand... they're wrong," Melek scowled, gripping the handle of his chamber door. "May I enter my own quarters?"

"Whether I am wrong or right is no longer the problem," the blonde snarled, finally giving in and sidestepping out of her brother's path. The violet-haired young Sheikah wasted no time in pulling his door open, entering his room, and without shutting the door behind him, started to light the lamps mounted on the walls of his meagerly decorated, only minimally comfortable chamber. Ziphorah poked her head around the door frame, continuing her lecture, "Your behavior is not very mannerly with her, and vice versa. Things like that cause rumors, and you know it. I would in any other world not be complaining because she is a very honorable woman, but you are a Sheikah, and in any case, she is meant for another..."

Ever true to his habits, however, the little brother interrupted. "If you're quite done accusing me of a love affair I'm not having, I have something important to tell you, Ziphorah."

His sister simply arched a brow, waiting.

"I wanted to say it at the meeting, but Sangethia was giving me that glare like she wanted to turn me into stone. It's about those dreams we're all having."

Ziphorah's mood changed almost immediately, a totally stoic expression on her features as she paced into her brother's room, seating herself on the nearly floor-level wood and linen bed.

He continued, "His Majesty, the Queen, you and I, Sangethia, and even Princess Sive have all had them. That doesn't even count those outside this court. But when I was taking Ceridwyn back to her chambers, even before she knew we all were having them, she told me about her own recurring dreams, and they're just like ours."

The blonde knotted her brows in thought. "Ceridwyn's being affected too? Why is that?"

"I don't know," Melek shrugged. "She doesn't even carry much royal blood."

A pause, before Ziphorah asked, "So what was her place?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"There is no lie in your eyes, brother."

He sighed, taking a seat next to his sister and folding his hands. "She said she was holding a sword and preparing to strike a great, towering shadow."

A pause. "If I did not trust you so well, Melek, I would not have believed you." Ziphorah's voice was almost breathless.

He only nodded in response.

"But how can this be?" She questioned no one. "If this were true..."

Melek finished for her. "Why would Sangethia be so adamant about keeping her quiet?"

"Exactly. It makes very little sense."

"I get the feeling she knows something we don't," was his half-hearted joke.

"I hate that feeling," his sister replied. "But in any case, we should keep quiet too. I'm sure if Sangethia is so determined about something, there's a reason behind it."

"Maybe the Priestess doesn't think Ceridwyn is fit for the role..."

"But that wouldn't be her decision to make and she knows it," Ziphorah argued, rubbing her thin hands together as she stood. "Get some sleep, brother. It's not our place to ponder these things."


End file.
